At the Laundrette.
Stepping into the laundrette on Monday with an over-full load, I entered not just a place of washing and drying but a realm where every spin cycle mirrored the complexities of society itself—a lesson in diversity, resilience, and simple yet strange human connections. Yeah, really.
It is a strange place. You watch your pants go round and round. Then, fold them while others watch. A man even picked a pair of mine off the floor as I transferred my warm, dry laundry from the Speed Queen Drying Tumbler to the low red central bench. These are friendly places. I could have stuffed it all back in the bag and run home, but folding while warm while watching others is one of life’s simple pleasures.
The people who frequent the laundrette are likely experiencing a different world than I do. I can get a cup of tea or coffee with a free biscuit for £1.50 here. Or even a Thai Chicken and Lemongrass soup for the same money. Remarkable really. I paid the best part of a tenner for two Starbucks cups of warm milk with coffee shots last weekend. But the bloke behind the counter here is a bit grumpy. I don’t feel like ringing his bell again to inquire about his range of delicate soups. He seemed annoyed when I rang it to get coins. Next time, someone else might be on, and I’ll feel like a tasting session. Prawn cocktail soup from a packet does sound like my sort of thing.
I’m nearly through with the fold and stack. It’s toppled over twice. It’s reasonably quiet once the background sound of the machines melts into a melodic symphony. I feel relaxed with warm hands and a neat pile when a man shouts randomly across the room, ‘Oi, is that yours in ‘ere?’ Everyone looks around. Everyone looks at everyone else. He repeats his demand twice more. Silence. I turn, ‘To whom are you directing your enquiry?’ ‘You what, mate?’ There is an apparent problem here: where he looks is not where he talks. He’s also got ants in his pants. Too many moving parts and an aggressive tone are not a helpful mix.
‘Does anyone know who’s washing is in the machine next to this gentleman?’ I enquire whilst pointing precisely. ‘That’s mine’, says the young woman sitting almost beside me. She clearly only understands complete English sentences. She slowly gets to her feet and goes over to her washing, where it is practically launched at her as one bundle.
This girl works out. Her left leg steps back a foot, absorbing the 15kg wet load. Impressive. She pivots 160 degrees. Another lady jumps up and flicks open the door of the Speed Queen. The bundle is launched into the round hole with even greater vigour. Thud. The door slammed, and three coins dispensed. Holds the black start button for three seconds and sits down where she started. Job done.
Meanwhile, our squiffy-eyed washer is hurling abuse at his three-year-old son, who, with genetic ants in his pants, is having great fun pushing a washing basket at full speed, round and round and…ouch, my toes.
Sadly, laundrettes are a dying breed. The first one opened in London in 1949, and by the 1980s, there were 12,500 in the country, but that has dwindled to around 2000 thanks to home washing machines, the pandemic and energy costs. The first one, on Queensway, W2, is still open.
We hear, well, we know that certain people have lost touch. They don’t know what it’s like for the ‘common man.’ It’s obvious why that would happen. When someone gets driven around, has to borrow a car to fill it up for a photo opp and can’t use a debit card, what chance do they have?
To truly grasp the nation’s pulse, our leaders might consider the humble laundrette not as a relic of the past but as a vibrant hub of real-life, real-time social interaction. Imagine a world where those in power fold their laundry beside Mrs Miggins, engaging in genuine dialogue rather than staged photo ops.
The laundrettes of this nation should become the de facto training ground for all those looking to ‘lead’. These are places where cash is king, gas is burned furiously, and the dispatch box is a blue tartan laundry bag. It should be perfect to flush out those who cannot listen or adapt to their surroundings. Leaders National Service, we will call it. One month using a laundrette twice weekly, followed by one month working there. No shortcuts, special privileges, avoiding questions, and preaching.
The final day will involve sitting quietly, Nick Kamen style, waiting on the Laundrette Senate’s decision. Will they make the make the grade? It sounds like quite a good reality TV show—in every episode, a quiet but deadly challenger would lurk, like the laundry-catching girl. The dramatic finale: Will the Senate decide she gets the Whitehall job?
This ‘Leaders National Service’ could be the grounding they need, offering lessons in empathy, practicality, and daily real-life issues their constituents face. And who knows? Perhaps, in the buzz of dryers and the chatter among baskets of warm clothes, they’ll find solutions as tangible as the fabric they fold, bridging the gap between governing and living.
Amid the rhythmic churn of the laundrette, I stumbled upon unexpected wisdom: the importance of staying grounded, embracing the mundane, and finding unity in diversity. These lessons, spun from washing clothes side by side, remind us that leadership and empathy are forged not in isolation but in the shared fabric of everyday life.
This week’s web links include that Levis’s advert, a Colorado log cabin, Istanbul inspiration and design trends for the spring.
Feel free to let me know if you have any comments or suggestions. You will always find me at carl@carlarchitect.co.uk.
This Week’s Links:
My Beautiful Laundrette trailer.
Nick Kamen……
Traditional rustic interiors in a Colorado log cabin.
The best place for champagne after a day on the train to Edinburgh – more on that next week.
2024 is the year to visit Istanbul.
The most beautiful swimming pools in the world
Spring design trends, from sherbet colours to animal patterns.
Estate agents share what their buyers are looking for.
Main image credit: Our leader mixing it up with the laundrette regulars on his mandatory Leaders National Service (DALL-E)
Thoughts for the Weekend & this Week’s Links
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At the Laundrette.
Stepping into the laundrette on Monday with an over-full load, I entered not just a place of washing and drying but a realm where every spin cycle mirrored the complexities of society itself—a lesson in diversity, resilience, and simple yet strange human connections. Yeah, really.
It is a strange place. You watch your pants go round and round. Then, fold them while others watch. A man even picked a pair of mine off the floor as I transferred my warm, dry laundry from the Speed Queen Drying Tumbler to the low red central bench. These are friendly places. I could have stuffed it all back in the bag and run home, but folding while warm while watching others is one of life’s simple pleasures.
The people who frequent the laundrette are likely experiencing a different world than I do. I can get a cup of tea or coffee with a free biscuit for £1.50 here. Or even a Thai Chicken and Lemongrass soup for the same money. Remarkable really. I paid the best part of a tenner for two Starbucks cups of warm milk with coffee shots last weekend. But the bloke behind the counter here is a bit grumpy. I don’t feel like ringing his bell again to inquire about his range of delicate soups. He seemed annoyed when I rang it to get coins. Next time, someone else might be on, and I’ll feel like a tasting session. Prawn cocktail soup from a packet does sound like my sort of thing.
I’m nearly through with the fold and stack. It’s toppled over twice. It’s reasonably quiet once the background sound of the machines melts into a melodic symphony. I feel relaxed with warm hands and a neat pile when a man shouts randomly across the room, ‘Oi, is that yours in ‘ere?’ Everyone looks around. Everyone looks at everyone else. He repeats his demand twice more. Silence. I turn, ‘To whom are you directing your enquiry?’ ‘You what, mate?’ There is an apparent problem here: where he looks is not where he talks. He’s also got ants in his pants. Too many moving parts and an aggressive tone are not a helpful mix.
‘Does anyone know who’s washing is in the machine next to this gentleman?’ I enquire whilst pointing precisely. ‘That’s mine’, says the young woman sitting almost beside me. She clearly only understands complete English sentences. She slowly gets to her feet and goes over to her washing, where it is practically launched at her as one bundle.
This girl works out. Her left leg steps back a foot, absorbing the 15kg wet load. Impressive. She pivots 160 degrees. Another lady jumps up and flicks open the door of the Speed Queen. The bundle is launched into the round hole with even greater vigour. Thud. The door slammed, and three coins dispensed. Holds the black start button for three seconds and sits down where she started. Job done.
Meanwhile, our squiffy-eyed washer is hurling abuse at his three-year-old son, who, with genetic ants in his pants, is having great fun pushing a washing basket at full speed, round and round and…ouch, my toes.
Sadly, laundrettes are a dying breed. The first one opened in London in 1949, and by the 1980s, there were 12,500 in the country, but that has dwindled to around 2000 thanks to home washing machines, the pandemic and energy costs. The first one, on Queensway, W2, is still open.
We hear, well, we know that certain people have lost touch. They don’t know what it’s like for the ‘common man.’ It’s obvious why that would happen. When someone gets driven around, has to borrow a car to fill it up for a photo opp and can’t use a debit card, what chance do they have?
To truly grasp the nation’s pulse, our leaders might consider the humble laundrette not as a relic of the past but as a vibrant hub of real-life, real-time social interaction. Imagine a world where those in power fold their laundry beside Mrs Miggins, engaging in genuine dialogue rather than staged photo ops.
The laundrettes of this nation should become the de facto training ground for all those looking to ‘lead’. These are places where cash is king, gas is burned furiously, and the dispatch box is a blue tartan laundry bag. It should be perfect to flush out those who cannot listen or adapt to their surroundings. Leaders National Service, we will call it. One month using a laundrette twice weekly, followed by one month working there. No shortcuts, special privileges, avoiding questions, and preaching.
The final day will involve sitting quietly, Nick Kamen style, waiting on the Laundrette Senate’s decision. Will they make the make the grade? It sounds like quite a good reality TV show—in every episode, a quiet but deadly challenger would lurk, like the laundry-catching girl. The dramatic finale: Will the Senate decide she gets the Whitehall job?
This ‘Leaders National Service’ could be the grounding they need, offering lessons in empathy, practicality, and daily real-life issues their constituents face. And who knows? Perhaps, in the buzz of dryers and the chatter among baskets of warm clothes, they’ll find solutions as tangible as the fabric they fold, bridging the gap between governing and living.
Amid the rhythmic churn of the laundrette, I stumbled upon unexpected wisdom: the importance of staying grounded, embracing the mundane, and finding unity in diversity. These lessons, spun from washing clothes side by side, remind us that leadership and empathy are forged not in isolation but in the shared fabric of everyday life.
This week’s web links include that Levis’s advert, a Colorado log cabin, Istanbul inspiration and design trends for the spring.
Feel free to let me know if you have any comments or suggestions. You will always find me at carl@carlarchitect.co.uk.
This Week’s Links:
My Beautiful Laundrette trailer.
Nick Kamen……
Traditional rustic interiors in a Colorado log cabin.
The best place for champagne after a day on the train to Edinburgh – more on that next week.
2024 is the year to visit Istanbul.
The most beautiful swimming pools in the world
Spring design trends, from sherbet colours to animal patterns.
Estate agents share what their buyers are looking for.
Main image credit: Our leader mixing it up with the laundrette regulars on his mandatory Leaders National Service (DALL-E)
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